Mom was afraid when she saw you coming into the bedroom. “Honey, honey…I told you no, get out of my room right now! I told you not to touch me like that – it’s disgusting, it’s wrong…” she yelled. She knew what was about to happen.
Mom was the victim to your disgusting, perverted, sexual urges that you couldn’t control. It was easy to take advantage of her, to force her to do all these terrible, disturbing things. You looked at Mom as an object, a fuck doll, that’s only purpose for existence was to get you off – to fulfill your needs. Her eyes were wide and frightened as she screamed at you, but the both of you knew how this would end.
“Get away – this is wrong! I know I didn’t raise you to be a pervert like this. You know better!” she tried to reason with you. “Do I have to call the cops on you again? I don’t want you touching me.” You pulled on her bra straps, yanked down her panties, and all she could do was cry. “What’s wrong with you,” she sobbed, her body now exposed and bare.
You groped her perky tits, fingered and licked her pussy, then threw her onto the bed. “No, no, no…” she panicked, her body trembling. “Get away from me! No, please…please don’t.” You spread her legs, pulled down your pants, and penetrated her tight, warm pussy as she cried. She begged and pleaded for you to stop, but you ignored her whines.
Mom needed a reminder that she belonged to you and to you only. “Please don’t tell me you came in me…” she said, her pussy filled with your seed. “Please…I don’t want to have your baby. You’re not my family…you’ll never be my family.” She thought you were a monster, but there was no escaping the cold, hard reality of the situation. She was your worthless, sex slave who would now be the mother of your baby – a daily reminder of her worth.